


Where You Lead

by mambo, tuntekorpp



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Diners, Alternate Universe - Gilmore Girls Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Small Town, Diner Owner Bucky, Diners, Gilmore Girls AU, M/M, Modern Era, Single Father Steve, Small Towns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-23 09:03:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11399391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mambo/pseuds/mambo, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuntekorpp/pseuds/tuntekorpp
Summary: “That was before I saw that you were on a date,” she says.“Date?” Steve asks, confused."The man you were holding hands with,” Peggy says.Steve shakes his head. “No, no, that’s not a date. That’s just… Bucky. He’s Bucky.”Steve is a single dad who manages the local inn. Bucky runs the local diner. Steve loves Bucky's coffee, but definitely not Bucky. Except, maybe that's not so true. Well, it's true about the coffee. Steve definitely loves Bucky's coffee.(AGilmore Girls-inspired AU that doesn't require background knowledge ofGilmore Girlsto enjoy, and a Captain America Reverse Big Bang offering from mambo and tuntekorpp.)





	Where You Lead

**Author's Note:**

> Another Reverse Big Bang offering! I'll admit that when I signed up to be a pinch-hitter, I had no idea I'd get the opportunity to work with an artist as kind, fun, exciting, tolerant and, of course, talented as [tuntekorpp](http://tuntematonkorppi.tumblr.com/)! Working with them has been an absolute dream and a pleasure, and has made this my favorite fandom event ever. 
> 
> I also have to thank my beta [boxofpigeons](boxofpigeons.tumblr.com). You have worked overtime this summer, and I am so appreciative. 
> 
> And again, many thanks to the Reverse Big Bang organizers for putting together such a great event. 
> 
> Finally, I need to wish a very happy 99th birthday to Steve Rogers. This fic doesn't include fireworks, but it's for you.

[](https://ibb.co/fJxOxv)

“Please,” Steve says, holding the mug out to Bucky.

“How many cups have you had today?” Bucky asks.

“None,” Steve says. Bucky raises an eyebrow. “Plus two, but yours is better.”

“You’re a horrible role model for your daughter and for the nation as a whole.”

“I’ll take it, as long as you give me some coffee.”

Bucky takes the mug. Steve takes it as a victory.

They have this conversation almost every morning. Steve begs, and Bucky pretends that he won’t give in for a couple minutes. Ultimately, however, he does. That’s how this works. Steve goes to Bucky’s every morning (and sometimes afternoons and sometimes evenings and oftentimes just for a snack because no one cooks like Bucky does) and Bucky provides Steve with the best food in Stars Hollow — except for Sam, but Sam has a Michelin Star, so it’s a little unfair to compare the two — and usually with a frown. This morning is no different. Except, maybe, there is something a little different.

“Did you do something different with your hair?” Steve asks, leaning with his elbows on the counter as Bucky pours his cup of coffee. He grabs another cup for Sharon and starts pouring that, too. Smart man. He doesn’t respond to Steve’s question. “Bucky? Are you listening to me?”

“Hard not to,” Bucky says, shoving the mugs at Steve. “Here,” he says.

“Your hair,” Steve insists.

“It’s fine,” Bucky says.

“Yes, I know it looks fine but it’s different.”

“You think it looks fine?” Bucky asks, raising an eyebrow.

Steve straightens up, suddenly a little flustered. “Obviously,” he says. “It always looks fine.” Bucky smirks at Steve. Steve rolls his eyes. “Why do you take everything I say in the dirty way?”

“Says the guy who thought that ‘fondue’ was a euphemism.” Steve frowns and Bucky keeps that silly smirk on his face. “Yeah, Howard told me about that.”

“Just for that, I’m not leaving you a tip.”

“I’ll cry myself to sleep,” Bucky says as Steve walks back to the table where Sharon is sitting.

“Done flirting?” she asks.

Steve rolls his eyes. “I have half a mind not to give this to you,” he says, holding out her mug of coffee.

“That would be a cruel and unusual way of parenting,” she says. “I think the Geneva Convention protects me from stuff like this.”

“Cruel and unusual has always been my style. You just haven’t noticed because it’s what you’re accustomed to.” She rolls her eyes and reaches her hand out. Steve gives her the mug. “You know, Bucky says that I shouldn’t give you any coffee, says it’s bad for your health.”

“It is,” Bucky calls over as he refills the coffee at another table. “And you shouldn’t.”

“Too late,” Sharon says, taking a sip. “He got me started too young. Couldn’t quit now if I tried.”

“Try,” Bucky says, coming to the table. He sets his coffee pot down on the edge of the table and takes out his order pad. “Know what you want?” he asks.

“Blueberry pancakes,” Sharon says.

Bucky nods, scribbles something down. “And Steve? Fondue?”

“For breakfast? That’s a little much, even for me. How about an egg white omelette with spinach and turkey bacon.”

Bucky looks up from the pad, stares at Steve for a long moment. “Really?” he asks.

“Of course not,” Steve says. “I’ll have a waffle, and sprinkle a few chocolate chips on there for me, will ya?”

“Shouldn’t have even asked,” Bucky mutters as he writes their order down, then turns and walks back to the kitchen, taking the coffee pot with him.

“So, what’s on the agenda today?” Steve asks Sharon.

“All the usual classes, plus French Club after school and band rehearsal. Should we just meet here for a late dinner? I can just come straight off the bus.”

“You won’t be home until dinner?” Steve asks, trying to mask his disappointment. Steve couldn’t be more proud of Sharon, but since she started school at the private and prestigious Avengers Academy their time together has gotten increasingly smaller. There are days where Steve almost misses when Sharon was younger and they’d spend their hours off coloring and doing basic math problems together, but then he remembers how she couldn’t drive or dress herself, and he’ll take conflicting schedules over cleaning diapers. Plus, Sharon is one of those smart kids who can do math that looks like someone just kind of bashed on a keyboard but apparently means 6 when put together.

“Getting into Harvard takes commitment,” Sharon says, then shrugs. “Though I think I could do without being so committed to the clarinet.”

“So proud of you, kiddo,” Steve says, smiling at his daughter. “Though I could do without squeaking clarinet practice all the time.”

“Dad!” Sharon squeaks.

“Quiet,” Bucky says, coming up behind them with their food. “People are trying to eat.”

“His fault,” Sharon says as Bucky slips a plate in front of her.

“’Course it is,” Bucky says, holding Steve’s food hostage. “You’re the bad influence,” he says, glaring at Steve.

“Gimme my waffle,” Steve says.

Bucky rolls his eyes but sets the food down. “What’s this?” Steve asks, picking up a piece of what is obviously turkey bacon from the side of Steve’s plate.

“Turkey bacon,” Bucky says, “like you asked for.”

“It’s touching my waffle,” Steve says.

“Less grease than pork, so it shouldn’t matter,” Bucky says.

“You’re the worst,” Steve says, using the bacon to point at Bucky.

Bucky plucks the bacon out of Steve’s hand and takes a bite. “Thanks,” he says, bacon still hanging out of his mouth.

“Mannerless,” Steve says.

“Thanks for breakfast!” Sharon says, because _she_ has manners, most of which were taught to her by Steve himself, despite what Bucky may think.

And then Bucky does that thing that he does which is most upsetting to Steve.

He takes the bacon out of his mouth and he _smiles_.

“You’re welcome,” he says, and even shoots a smile over at Steve. “Lemme know if you want anything else, okay?”

“Real bacon, please,” Steve says with a toothy grin.

Bucky rolls his eyes and the smile fades, which is probably a good thing, given how susceptible Steve is to it.

Steve has known Bucky for about ten years and has frequented Bucky’s since they met. He still remembers the first time he walked in the door of Bucky’s. The place was just a few weeks old, and Steve had just been promoted from a gardener at the Shield Inn to a receptionist, so he had some extra cash, so he could do things like get a plate of eggs at that new diner that opened up.

Steve was twenty-two with a six-year old daughter, trying to juggle work life and fatherhood way before he thought he’d ever have to. Bucky was eighteen, just graduated high school, starting his own business after his father’s death, and making a name for himself despite the circumstances.

They started fighting the moment they met and they haven’t stopped since.

Still, Bucky’s been one of the few constants in Steve’s life the past ten years. Sharon’s gotten older, partners have come and gone, but Steve’s always been able to get a cup of coffee at Bucky’s. Bucky is also a proven friend. When something’s gone wrong at the Inn or Sharon’s had a cold, Bucky’s always been there with his hammer or a pot of chicken noodle soup. He’s kept Bucky’s open so Steve would have a place to eat after a long shift. When Steve came down with the flu three days before Sharon’s ninth birthday party, Bucky took it upon himself to organize the whole thing, down to bullying the party supply store into making balloon arrangements with a superhero-ballerina-archaeologist theme, since those were the professions Sharon was deciding between at the time.

So they fight and pick at each other, but Bucky is still one of Steve’s favorite people in the world.

And those moments where Bucky cracks a smile? Those are Steve’s favorite moments of the day.

— —

They’re finishing up their food when a motorcycle revs its engine next to the restaurant. Steve glances out, sees someone seemingly idling, rolls his eyes and goes back to his plate. Then they rev again, and a third time.

“Who the hell is that?” Bucky asks from behind the counter.

Steve looks up to see the motorcycle driver take of their helmet.

“It’s mom!” Sharon yells, standing up.

“Peggy?” Steve asks himself quietly as Sharon bounds out the door towards her mom. Steve stands up, looks over to Bucky. “I’ll be back in just a minute,” he says.

“Sure,” he hears Bucky say as he heads out the door. 

Peggy is hugging Sharon, lifting her up and spinning her around. “Darling!” she says. “You’ve grown!”

“I’m almost as tall as you now,” Sharon says, grinning.

“That you are!” Peggy says, smiling back. She’s looking good, in a brown leather jacket and slacks. Her brown hair seems a little limp from the motorcycle helmet, but she’s _wearing_ a helmet, which seems like a win in the responsibility area. “Darling,” she says, smiling at Steve with crimson lips.

“Pegs,” he says, walking over and giving her a hug. “Nice bike.”

“It’s a Harley-Davidson,” she says. “Just got it a week ago and I knew that she needed to visit you.”

“Me?” Steve asks.

“I know you always wanted one,” she says.

“I did when I was sixteen,” he says, looking down at the grey bike. It looks great, but it also looks like the sort of thing that a father with a sixteen year-old shouldn’t ride, especially if he’s at least attempting to be responsible role model for his daughter. He looks back up at Peggy. “You staying in town?” he asks.

“If you’ll have me,” she says.

“We will!” Sharon says. “Right, dad?”

“Definitely. We can pull out that air mattress you love.”

“Or you can give me your bed like the gentleman I know you are,” she says, knocking his hip with hers.

“We’ll see about that,” Steve says. “Listen, I gotta go pay for breakfast. I’ll be back out in a minute, and then I’ll drive you to school,” he tells Sharon.

“Got it,” she says.

“You better be here when I get back,” Steve says, looking at Peggy.

“Scout’s honor,” she says. She grabs Sharon’s hand and looks at her. “We’ve got a lot of catching up to do, besides.”

He can’t help but smile at the two of them before he goes back into Bucky’s. Bucky is still standing behind the counter talking to another customer. Steve glances over at their table; it’s already been cleared. Steve waits until Bucky is done with the other customer before stepping up to the counter. “Hey,” he says.

“Need the check?” Bucky asks, curt. Steve nods. Bucky hands him the check.

“You already had it?”

“Assumed you weren’t staying,” he says.

“Why’s that?” Steve asks, pulling his wallet from his back pocket and fishing through it for the money.

Bucky looks at him like he’s a moron. “You were almost done already.”

“Oh,” Steve says, getting the cash together. He hands it to Bucky.

“So that’s Sharon’s mom?” Bucky asks as he takes the cash from Steve.

Steve nods. “Yeah, that’s Peggy.”

“Can’t say I expected Sharon’s mom to roll into town on a motorcycle,” he says as he takes the money to the cash register.

“She’s been here a few times before,” Steve says.

“I didn’t say that she hadn’t been here before,” Bucky says while he counts out Steve’s change.

“I know that,” Steve snaps.

Bucky looks up, cash in hand. “What?” he asks, flat.

“Nothing,” Steve mutters. “You have my change?” he asks.

“Here,” Bucky says, holding it out to Steve. Steve takes it from him and shoves it back into the wallet. “What, no tip?” Bucky asks with a snort.

“Told you I wasn’t giving you one earlier,” Steve says, turning up his nose.

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Have a nice day,” he says, sarcastic.

“I intend to!” Steve says, voice raised just a little.

“Enjoy your time with Sharon’s mom,” Bucky says.

“Her name is _Peggy_ ,” he says.

“Alright, _Steve_ ,” Bucky spits back.

The customer Bucky had been serving a minute ago looks over at Steve. “You’re being very loud,” he says.

“Blame this guy,” Steve says jerking his thumb over at Bucky, before turning around and walking out of the restaurant, bells ringing behind him.

He pauses when he gets outside, and sighs. Steve shuts his eyes for a moment and counts to five. For all of their play fighting, he and Bucky really have it out every so often. This isn’t the worst of it — there was the time where Steve lost Sharon for an afternoon and Bucky found her and really let Steve know what he thought about his parenting skills, which he promptly took back ten minutes later when Steve began to cry — but it never feels good. Steve will pick fights every so often; it’s been a running theme throughout his life, and how he met Peggy. He’s never liked bullies. But he’s also never liked picking a fight without a reason behind it, but that’s just what happened with Bucky.  Steve doesn’t get it.

It’s bullshit, and Bucky should apologize. Right? Right. He’ll just need to wait for that apology and everything will be better again, and he and Bucky will go back to normal.

He opens his eyes and heads back to Sharon and Peggy.

And sees Peggy putting a motorcycle helmet on Sharon’s head.

“No,” Steve says.

“But dad—“

“ _No_ ,” Steve says again, trying out his very best dad voice — stern, firm, and final. “This is not going to happen.”

Peggy rolls her eyes, taking the helmet off of Sharon’s head. “Don’t be a stick in the mud, Steven. It’s a short ride to your place and we all know it. There’s not a whole lot of trouble we can get into when the only other creatures we may see on the road are cows. What’s the population of the town again?” Peggy asks, all sarcasm.

“And why are we talking about going back to the house? Sharon, you have to go to school,” Steve says.

“Well…” Sharon says, looking at her feet.

“What did you promise?” Steve asks Peggy, exasperated.

“I have some shopping I need to do and I’d like some time to catch up with my daughter, so I thought I may take her out of school for the day.” Steve braces himself to respond, but Peggy keeps going. “Oh, don’t be mad. Every student needs a mental health day every so often, even perfect students like our Sharon. And I promise we won’t do anything untoward. We’ll go to the mall, grab some lunch, and be back before dinner.”

Steve takes a breath, takes a moment to think over the situation. It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world for Sharon to take a day off so she can catch up with her mom. That is, of course, if Sharon wants to. He turns to Sharon. “Do you want to do this? Take the day off?”

“Yes,” Sharon says, and Steve lets himself be grateful that his daughter knows him well enough not to mince words or come up with excuses. Still, he’s not sure. Then she looks up at him with her wide blue eyes and says, “Please?”

He sighs. “ _Fine_ ,” he says. Peggy grins and high-fives Sharon. “But take my car to the mall, okay? I don’t want you trying to drive back with bags on the bike.”

Peggy rolls her eyes. “Fine,” she says, “but I get to take Sharon back to the house on the bike.”

“That wasn’t a question?” Steve asks.

She steps forward and gives him a kiss on the cheek. Steve knows her habits well enough that he knows that the kiss will leave a red lipstick mark. “It’s good to see you,” she says.

“It’s good to see you, too,” Steve says. He looks over Peggy to Sharon. “Put on the helmet and hold on tight.”

— —

By the time Steve gets to the Shield Inn for the start of his shift he’s exhausted. A part of him yearned to return to Bucky’s before work to get a cup of coffee to go, but given their icy goodbye after breakfast, he doesn’t risk it. Bucky has his moods (and Steve has his own), so it’ll work out.

Probably.

Hopefully.

So between Bucky, Peggy’s arrival, Sharon’s parent-induced delinquency, and the general day-to-day anxieties of being a working adult with a sixteen year-old child, he’s in a bit of a mood by the time he makes it to work. Natasha is at the desk, answering the phone with all of her usual gusto.

“Shield Inn, Natasha speaking,” she says just as Steve gets to his post behind the desk. “No, we don’t have any availability on the week of the 11 th .” She sighs. “Yes, I checked. No, I don’t need to check again. Yes, I…” Steve tunes her out after that. Natasha has her own way of dealing with things, and Steve will let her do it lest _he_ be on the receiving end of her way of dealing with things. Today has already been bad enough; he doesn’t need to add Natasha’s icy glare to the mix.

Noting that the lobby is near-empty, Steve gestures to Natasha that he’s going to head back into the kitchen. She nods and continues her argument with the guest. It’s a good thing that everyone seems to inexplicably like her kind of service, or else Steve would probably be forced to fire her. Not that he would; he loves Natasha. But maybe take her off the desk.

Steve heads back through the lobby and the Inn’s restaurant to get to the kitchen. “Hey Sam,” he says, heading to the coffee pot. He grabs a mug off the shelf and pours himself a cup.

“Hey man,” Sam says. “Try one of my scones?” he asks, shoving a wicker basket full of scones Steve’s way. Steve doesn’t think about it, just picks one up. “They’re poppyseed with orange zest.”

“They’re delicious,” Steve says. “You know who would like these?”

“Sharon,” Sam says. “I’ve got a box of them ready to go for her.”

“I love you,” Steve says.

“And the coffee has a hint of cinnamon, just the way you like it.”

“How are you such a perfect human being?” Steve asks, taking another bite of scone, then a sip of coffee.

“Force sensitive,” Sam says.

Steve snorts, nearly making coffee go up his nose. “Nice reference,” he says.

Sam shrugs. “I try.”

“Can you stir that pot with the Force?” Steve asks.

“I would, but I don’t wanna make you jealous,” Sam says.

“I’m no Jedi,” Steve says.

“Don’t be down on yourself about that. We can’t all be perfect.” Steve chuckles, but his heart’s not in it. He sighs and looks down at his coffee. “Don’t look at my perfect coffee with those sad puppy eyes,” Sam says.

“They’re not sad,” Steve says.

“But you’re not disputing the puppy eyes part.”

Steve shrugs. “Not gonna dispute the truth,” he says.

“But something’s wrong?”

“Peggy’s in town,” Steve says.

“Really? She coming here for dinner? Because I remember she liked the pork rillettes I made last time she was here and I’m always looking for an excuse to break out the charcuterie boards.” Steve raises an eyebrow. “Hey, I’m just doing my job,” Sam says as he moves to a large pot, which Steve thinks has the soup special for lunch in it.

“I don’t think she’s coming here tonight,” he says.

“Tomorrow?” Sam asks. “It’ll actually be easier if she comes in tomorrow, since I can get T’Challa to bring in some of those squash blossoms she likes.”

“Any excuse to call T’Challa, right?” Steve asks with raised eyebrows.

Sam’s attention very suddenly goes to the soup. He grabs a spoon, dips it in, and tastes it. “He’s my produce guy. Of course I’d have to get in touch with him when the menu changes.”

Steve just says “Mhmm” and sips his coffee. 

“Speaking of which, didn’t you say you were going to Bucky’s this morning? Where’s your coffee?”

“Why is that “speaking of which”?” Steve asks.

Sam drops the used spoon in the sink. “I think you know why.”

“It’s not like that!” Steve argues as Sam grabs a few spices from his spice rack. He begins sprinkling them into the soup in a way that looks sort of arbitrary to Steve, but will probably produce magic.

“Just like how it’s not like that with T’Challa and I,” Sam says, all innocence as he drops a bay leaf into the soup.

Steve rolls his eyes. “Fine,” he says.

“Thank you,” Sam says.

“And I did go to Bucky’s this morning, for your information.”

“Then why’re you standing in my kitchen, drinking my coffee?” he asks as he grabs another spoon and tastes the soup again. He groans with frustration, drops this spoon into the sink, and goes back to the spice rack.

“I had a late night!” Steve says. Sam levels him with a look. “And Bucky and I got into a fight before I could get a to-go cup.”

“There we go, finally some truth outta this boy.” He digs through the rack, trying to find what he’s looking for. “What was your fight about?”

“Nothing, I think,” Steve says.

“Nothing?” Sam asks, peeking out at Steve from behind the shelf. “You and Bucky fight a lot, but it’s rarely over nothing.”

“I dunno, it was… Peggy met us at the restaurant. We went outside to say hi, then I came back in to pay the check. When I did, Bucky was in a mood and we just… fought a little. I’m sure it’s not a big deal.”

“No, definitely not a big deal that Sharon’s mom and the only person you’ve ever had a real, steady relationship with came to the diner to say hello,” Sam says.

“Why would Bucky care about Peggy?” he asks. “And steady seems like a generous term for our relationship.”

“Maybe because Bucky cares about _you_ ,” Sam says. “A-ha!” he adds, grabbing a little jar of something from the spice rack.

Steve frowns. “He was weird about it,” he says.

“Told you,” Sam says and starts to do a little dance as he chants, “Told ya so, told ya so!”

The door to the kitchen opens and one of their servers, Darcy, walks in. “Oh hey, T’Challa,” Steve says, looking over Sam’s shoulder just as Sam’s trying out his moon walk.

Sam freezes in place, a look of horror coming over his face. He slowly turns to the door, where Darcy looks at the two of them in confusion. When he realizes that it’s not actually T’Challa standing there, Sam quickly looks back at Steve with an exaggerated frown. “Not funny,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest, jar of spice still in hand.

“Very funny,” Steve says with a little smile, then takes another sip of coffee. Sam rolls his eyes and moves on to a sauce for the chicken lunch special, and Steve allows himself to feel a little better.

— —

Thankfully, the day isn’t too crazy. Between meetings and other duties he surreptitiously checks his phone, hoping for updates from Sharon and Peggy. He gets a few — one is a picture of Sharon in a red dress that Peggy sends him with the caption ‘Prom???’, another is a picture of the two of them sharing a soft pretzel. They’re cute, and they make Steve smile, but it also hurts a little to see them in a way that Steve can’t quite describe.

When Sam said that Peggy was his only stable partner, he wasn’t quite right. They’ve been a constant presence in each other’s lives for years. They went to the best schools in Connecticut together, took the same horseback riding lessons, and went to the same dances. Their rebellious streaks brought them together; neither liked a bully, and both had a tendency to get into trouble, especially as they both wanted to rebel against the seemingly arbitrary social rules of their WASP-y society. They started dating when they were fifteen, and Peggy got pregnant at sixteen.

They didn’t last long after the pregnancy.

Steve doesn’t like to think about the drama, the issues. He doesn’t like to think about how he felt, sixteen and holding baby Sharon in his arms as he stood in foyer of his parents’ house, wondering how he was going to raise the wiggling little creature he was holding by himself. Ten months before that he had seen his entire future in front of him — college, travel, a trust fund. Then, his entire world became tethered to this tiny person who he loved, but didn’t quite know what to do with. But he promised Peggy, and he promised Sharon, and he would take care of her the best he could.

Peggy went to college: Oxford, where her mother went. When she came back to the States, she got a job that Steve isn’t quite sure she’s at liberty to talk about. Since then, she’s been a spotty presence in Sharon’s, and by proxy, Steve’s, lives.

For years, Steve has wanted Peggy to come to town like she did today. But he wanted her to look around, to see the life Steve and Sharon have built for themselves in Stars Hollow, and to realize that this is where she wants to be, too. But for years, Peggy’s done this: she’s come into town, spoiled Sharon, kissed Steve (or sometimes more), then sped away as quickly as she came. Stars Hollow isn’t more than a destination she sets on her GPS, a place to stop on her way to somewhere else. For a long time, that broke Steve’s heart. Now, he’s gotten used to it.

Peggy isn’t a bad mother. She and Sharon talk on the phone at least once a week — Tuesday evenings — and oftentimes more. They have a group message, the three of them, where they share pictures and stories from their day. Steve is sure that Sharon and Peggy text each other in a separate conversation that Steve can’t see, too. They always see each other around Christmastime, and Peggy always has something utterly fantastic to give Sharon from her travels around the United States and abroad.

Has Steve been pining for her this whole time? Maybe a little. It’s hard for anyone to get over their first love; or, at least that’s what Sam says when Steve’s feeling down about it. To have his first love be such a constant but unreachable presence in his life, to have this link between them that will never actually bring them together… it’s tough. It’s gotten better in recent years. As Sharon’s gotten older, Steve’s been able to date a little more, test out the waters. But nothing’s stuck. No one’s lived up to Peggy and the potential of giving Sharon a family with her two biological parents.

It was just a surprise seeing her, is all. Steve will get it back together, and get it together soon. He has to, for his sake and for Sharon’s. It’s no good to have a parent who spends his days pining for someone who has better things to do.

He looks down at his phone to see a new notification from Sharon. It’s another photo, this one of a Starbucks cup in focus, Peggy out of focus sitting across a table. _Not as good as Bucky’s. Can we go there tomorrow morning with mom?_

Steve frowns, staring at his phone. He won’t answer it right away.

— —

The call he knew was coming but didn’t want to think about comes right when he’s about to leave the Inn. “Darling,” Peggy says when Steve picks up the phone.

“Hey Pegs,” Steve says. “You at home?” he asks.

She hums in affirmative. “We are,” she says.

“Great, I’m just—“

“But darling, we were watching TV, and you’ll never guess what we saw.”

Steve sighs. “ _The Brady Bunch Reunion Special_?” he asks.

Peggy laughs. “No, no, nothing as fantastic as that. But there was an advertisement for a movie that Sharon so desperately wants to see, and we have just enough time to get to Hartford for the next showing…”

“So you’re skipping dinner?” he asks.

“If you don’t mind. I don’t want to step on your toes, but this is something that I don’t think you’re particularly keen on seeing,” she says.

“I dunno Pegs, what’s it about?”

“Soccer,” she says.

He sighs. “Okay, can’t say that it would be at the top of my list.”

“And we’ve just been having such a lovely day together, and it’s so rare that we get to spend time together on our own.”

“It’s fine,” Steve says. “Just make sure she has a vegetable with dinner, okay?”

She laughs, a bright sound. “Of course. Thank you so much. We’ll be sure to check in.” And before Steve can say anything else, she hangs up.

Sighing, he texts her _DO NOT TAKE THE BIKE!!!!_

He looks up at the Inn’s lobby. A couple sits on a group of couches, crouched over a guidebook. A man is angrily talking on his phone while pacing around the far corner. Other than that, the place is quiet, and there’s no reason that he should stay late.

He knows Sam would be happy to make him a plate of something delicious and great, but he doesn’t want to deal with Sam’s fussing over him. With a sigh he closes out of his computer account, clocks out, and heads home.

Steve’s Jeep is sitting on the driveway.

They took the bike.

“Jesus,” Steve says, pulling his phone from his back pocket. He tries calling Peggy, but she doesn’t pick up. He rolls his eyes and heads inside the house.

The fridge is empty.

None of the take-out menus look appealing.

He sighs, flops onto the couch, tries to make himself want a pizza or Indian food from Tony’s Pancake World, and fails.

He wants to go to Bucky’s and he wants to get a burger.

It shouldn’t be weird, right? 

It’s going to be weird.

But they’ve had weirdness before, and it would be a really bad business move to refuse to serve Steve, so Steve grabs his wallet and his phone, then heads out the door.

It’s not a long walk to Bucky’s, so he gets there before he can lose his nerve. It’s late for a Tuesday night, so there are only a few tables left.

Bucky is wiping down the counter and looks up when Steve walks in. “What?” he asks.

“That any way to greet a paying customer?” Steve asks with the best smile he can muster.

“That’s the way to greet a customer who doesn’t tip,” he says, then returns to the counter.

Taking the banter as a good sign, Steve sits at the far end of the counter, grabs a menu and starts scanning it, though he’s already memorized it a hundred times over, and knows that he just wants a burger. And fries. And maybe some dessert, if he feels like it.

And then Bucky sets down a mug in front of him and fills it. Steve’s eyes fill with tears. “Thanks,” he says.

Bucky looks down at him, confused. “You okay?” he asks.

Steve barks out a laugh. “Maybe,” he says.

“I know you love coffee, but you don’t typically get this emotional over it.”

“It’s been a tough day,” Steve says.

Bucky sighs. “Guess I didn’t help with that.”

Steve shrugs. “Keep bringing me coffee and I’ll forgive you for just about anything.”

He laughs. “Yeah, well. Guess I owe you.”

“Then how about a cheeseburger?” Steve asks.

“Got it. Swiss?”

“You got pepper jack?” Steve asks, hopeful.

“I’ll send Peter next door to get some.” Bucky says, scribbling something down on his order pad. “Fries?”

“Of course,” Steve says.

“And what kind of pie?”

“Peach?”

“I’ll save you the last slice,” Bucky says, finishing up with the pad and sticking it in his back pocket. “Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Glad you stopped by,” he says.

“Me too.”

— —

By the time Bucky brings him his pie — warm, with a big scoop of vanilla ice cream on it, even though Steve hadn’t asked for it — he’s the last one left in the diner. Bucky’s cleaned most of the place up, and it’s obviously been a long, busy day. He already sent Peter home. “How’s the pie?” Bucky asks, rounding the counter and coming back to Steve.

“Great, as always.”

Bucky looks down at Steve. Steve looks up at Bucky. “Wanna talk about it?” Bucky asks.

“No,” Steve says.

“Okay,” Bucky says, starting to walk away.

“It’s just…” Steve starts, looking at Bucky. Bucky turns around. “She never calls.”

“Sharon’s mom?” Bucky asks.

“Peggy,” Steve says. “She never calls or asks to come visit, when she does bother to come visit. We always meet for Christmas, but it’s at her parents’ place. And sometimes she’ll take Sharon for a weekend to someplace fun and exciting, and that’s planned ahead. But every few years she’ll decide to come here and disrupt our daily lives.”

“Sounds frustrating,” Bucky says.

Steve shrugs. “I’m glad she comes here, I really am. I want she and Sharon to have a relationship.”

“But?”

“It’s hard on me,” Steve says after a long pause. “It’s not fair of me to say so, but there it is. It’s hard on me.” He pokes at the melting pool of ice cream on the side of his plate.

“Because you love her?” Bucky asks, voice level, face expressionless.

Steve looks up. “I do love her,” he says. Bucky straightens up a little, doesn’t meet Steve’s eyes. “But I’m not _in_ love with her, not like I used to be. At least, I don’t think so.” He sighs, looks back down. “But when she’s here, with Sharon, and I look at the three of us, I start to see what it would be like if we really were a family, if I could give that to Sharon.”

“You’re more than enough. You know that, right? You’ve done a helluva job, better than my old man did.” He shrugs. “And she’s still family, just in a different way. There aren’t right and wrong ways to be a family.” He pauses. “Well, there are _wrong_ ways, but don’t think you’re doing it wrong.”

“Thanks,” Steve says with a little chuckle.

“And Sharon has so many people who love her, right? This whole town, we all care. So maybe Peggy is far away, but we’re here.” He shrugs again, then starts wiping the counter. “You know where to find me if you need something.”

“You called her Peggy,” Steve says.

Bucky looks up. “That’s her name, right?”

Steve nods. “It is. Thanks Bucky.”

“Not a problem,” he says. “I—“

Steve’s phone starts ringing. It’s the “Cantina Song” from _Star Wars_.

“No cellphones,” Bucky says, pointing to the sign he has behind the counter.

“C’mon,” Steve says as he pulls the cellphone from his pocket. “I’m the only person here!”

“No—“ 

“It’s Peggy,” Steve says with a furrowed brow. Despite Bucky’s mumbling, he takes the call. “Hello? Pegs?”

“Steve, hello,” she says, speaking loudly over the sound of…

“Are those sirens?” Steve asks.

“Steve, darling, I need you to be calm.”

“What?” Steve asks, standing up, heart racing. His world narrows down to just Peggy’s voice in his ear. “What happened?”

“We had a little accident.”

Steve tries to breathe.

“Where’s Sharon?” he asks.

“She’s headed to St. Francis.”

“In that ambulance?” Steve asks. He wishes that it was him in that ambulance, not her. He wishes the floor would open up and swallow him whole. He wishes that he had never told them that they could go see that goddamn soccer movie. “What’s wrong?”

“Her arm is probably broken,” Peggy says, keeping her voice very level. Steve hears someone else talking on the other end. “Listen, they’re telling me I need to get in there. I got a bit beat around, too. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay,” Steve says, and Peggy disconnects.

Steve drops his phone on the counter. He looks around the diner, from the freshly washed tables to the large windows overlooking the sleepy Stars Hollow street outside. Sharon should be here with him, not in some ambulance, rushing towards a hospital.

He needs to get to Sharon, but he’s having some trouble figuring out how to breathe.

“What is it?” Bucky asks. Steve can’t even get himself to look Bucky’s way. It’s like no part of him can move, or think, or feel. All he knows is that he has to get to Sharon, but he doesn’t know how, not when all of his nightmares are coming true at once

“I need my car, I have to go home and get my car,” Steve says, nodding to himself. He takes a step and sort of wobbles, grabbing the counter to keep himself up. He shuts his eyes, and tries to take a breath. Breathing shouldn’t be this hard. He opens his eyes again.

“Steve,” Bucky says, moving around the counter and heading towards him. “Buddy, you gotta breathe.”

“I need to get my car,” Steve says, like that explains it.

“I’ll drive you. Where do you need to go?”

“It’s late, you just got off work, I just need—“

“I’m still at work and you’re my customer. Gotta take care of you. Just tell me where I gotta go.”

“St. Francis,” Steve says, “in Hartford.”

Bucky’s eyes go wide. “St. Francis Hospital?” he asks. Steve nods. “Grab your shit, let’s go,” Bucky says, taking Steve’s arm. 

“I’m scared,” Steve says, voice breaking.

“Me too,” Bucky says. “Let’s get to the hospital.”

— —

Steve spends the ride with his heart beating fast, knuckles white as he clenches the door to Bucky’s pick-up truck. Aside from a few texts once they got to the hospital, he hasn’t heard from Peggy again, but she went in for a CAT scan because she was knocked around, too. Though, not as bad as Sharon was, apparently.

Steve bites down on his lip and wills himself not to cry.

Meanwhile, Bucky drives like a maniac. Usually Steve would make fun of him, or even tell him to slow down. And he knows that it’s probably unsafe, but he can’t bring himself to care. Steve needs to get to Sharon, and he needs to get to her _now_ , traffic laws be damned. It seems like Bucky knows that, too, and is doing his best to get them there.

They make it to the hospital in forty minutes, which felt like forty minutes too long.

Steve runs to the front desk.

“Sharon Carter-Rogers,” he says.

The nurse looks up. “Pardon?”

“My daughter, Sharon Carter-Rogers. Where is she?”

She sighs, turns to the computer and taps a few things in. “She’s getting some tests done. It’ll be about an hour before you can see her.”

“An hour?” Steve asks, voice hoarse. He feels a hand at the small of his back, and looks up to see Bucky who seems, honestly, a little winded from having to follow Steve.

She nods. “An hour or so. I’m not entirely sure. You can wait for her over there,” she says, gesturing to the beige waiting room.

“Can someone let her know that I’m here, at least?” Steve asks, voice cracking. Bucky starts rubbing his back a little, which feels nice and reassuring.

She looks at him, then to Bucky, then back to Steve. “I’ll have someone let her know.”

Steve nods and turns towards the waiting area. He sighs. “Do you think she’s actually going to let Sharon know?” he asks Bucky.

“I’m not sure,” Bucky says. “Want me to follow her?”

Steve shakes his head. “No, I don’t want to cause a scene.” He plops down in a seat and slumps. “I do want to see Sharon.”

Bucky hovers. “Can I get you anything?” he asks.

“Can you just sit down here? By me?” Steve asks, feeling his cheeks grow warm. “Would you mind?”

Bucky sits. “This is easy,” he says.

Without looking at him, Steve reaches over and grabs Bucky’s hand. Bucky gives his a squeeze. “It’s just a broken arm,” Bucky says. “Feels like the end of the world, but it’s just a broken arm.”

Steve almost manages to smile, and sets in to wait.

— —

[](https://ibb.co/kpZgja)

Bucky falls asleep on his shoulder a few minutes later, still holding Steve’s hand. Steve doesn’t mind, just adjusts himself so it’s a bit more comfortable for Bucky.

— —

It’s Peggy who comes out of her test first.

She’s disheveled, hair a bit of a mess, though her lipstick is still somehow immaculate. She walks into the waiting room looking tired, clothes dirty from the accident. There’s a bit of blood on the edge of her skirt, and Steve doesn’t want to think about whose blood that is. But when she sees Steve, she squares her shoulders and stands a bit taller. It’s to her credit that she doesn’t try to avoid the situation, and just walks straight over to where Steve and Bucky are sitting.

Steve nudges Bucky’s side. He wakes with a start. “I didn’t—“ he says, then looks around. “How long was I out?” he asks, half-groaning as he sits up. He looks down at his hand, still holding Steve’s, and slowly pulls it away. Bucky clears his throat.

“Half-hour, maybe,” Steve says, pulling his own hand back to his lap. He doesn’t allow himself to feel sad that they’re not holding hands anymore. There are too many things to worry about.

“Huh,” Bucky says. He yawns. “Good nap,” he says.

Meanwhile, Peggy stands just a few feet away from them, watching. She clears her throat. “Steve—“

“We need to talk,” Steve interrupts, standing up. He looks back at Bucky. “Do you mind…?”

“If I hear anything I’ll come get you,” Bucky says.

“Thanks,” Steve says.

“Not a problem.”

Steve turns back to Peggy. “Let’s go talk outside,” he says.

For a moment she looks like she’ll say no, but then she sighs. “Sure,” she says. “Lead the way.”

They walk through the waiting room in silence, and through the automatic doors to the sidewalk outside the hospital. When they’re far enough away from the door that Steve doesn’t feel guilty about making a scene, he turns.

“I’m sorry,” Peggy says before Steve can start. “I mucked it all up.”

“You did,” he says. “I told you not to go on the motorcycle.”

“I know,” she says.

“And you didn’t have to go to Hartford at all tonight,” he says.

“I know,” she says.

“Sharon’s in there, hurt, because you didn’t listen to me.”

She nods. “Believe me, I know. Please, Steve, I’m not a child. I don’t need a lecture. I feel like the lowest creature on earth.”

“I don’t care how you feel, Peggy!” Steve says, voice getting louder. She cringes a little, and Steve takes a breath, getting his voice under control. “We made our choices. I chose to be Sharon’s father and to raise her, and up until now, I’ve done a pretty good job of keeping her out of the hospital and in one piece.”

“She hasn’t lost any pieces,” Peggy says, albeit meekly.

“That’s not the point, Peggy. What I say goes, period. I don’t care that the motorcycle is more fun. It’s _dangerous_.”

“I know that now. Honestly, I thought we were...” She stops, sighs. “I thought _I_ was being thoughtful, that we shouldn’t abandon you and then leave you without a car. I never anticipated that there’d be a drunk driver on the road and that we’d have to veer off of it to avoid a potentially worse accident.”

“I live in Stars Hollow, Peggy. Everything is walking distance.” He sighs. “And all I care is that my kid is okay, and right now, she isn’t.”

Peggy starts crying. Steve exhales. He hasn’t seen Peggy cry since the day she told him that she was pregnant. “Pegs—“

“I know, alright? You think I haven’t been beating myself up for the past few hours about all this? She’s my daughter, Steve. I know I haven’t been the mother that I should be, but she is my daughter, and I love her.”

“I know that,” Steve says. “I know you love her.”

“I want to have a relationship with her, Steve. Desperately.”

“I want you to have one, too. But if having a relationship with her means that you disregard everything that I say, the rules I have in place…” He leaves the sentence hanging.

“I won’t do it again,” Peggy says. She shakes her head. “I just wanted today to be special.”

“Well, she’ll never forget it,” Steve says with a sigh.

Peggy chuckles. She takes a manicured finger to wipe beneath her eyes. “You know, right? How much I appreciate and respect you for the father you’ve been.” Steve frowns. Frankly, he doesn’t. He and Peggy don’t really talk much. “I’ve just never been one for rules.”

Steve can’t help but smile. “I know,” he says. The smile falls. “But these are my rules for my kid. There aren’t that many, and they’re not arbitrary. So when I say that you shouldn’t go on the motorcycle, you should listen. It’s not about you now, it’s about her.”

“When did you get so wise?” Peggy asks.

Steve shrugs with a sad smile. “About an hour after you left for college,” he says.

“Steve, I have a few things I’d like to tell you,” Peggy says. She wipes another rogue tear from her cheek. “I’m not sure you’ll like what I have to say.”

“Not like this night can get much worse,” he says, bracing himself for whatever it is that she’s about to say. All he hopes for is that he’s not about to enter into some kind of lawyered-up custody battle; that’s all he wants. And he knows Peggy would win. She has a lot more money and connections than he does.

“I met someone,” she says.

Steve’s heart… doesn’t sink. Not like he thought it would. “You did?” he asks, a little dazed.

She nods, chuckles. “Yes,” she says. “I was telling Sharon about it over dinner. I wanted to tell you on your own.”

“You thought I’d freak out,” he says.

“I admit, that was before I saw that you were on a date,” she says.

“Date?” Steve asks, confused.

“The man you were holding hands with,” Peggy says.

Steve shakes his head. “No, no, that’s not a date. That’s just… Bucky. He’s Bucky.”

“From the diner?” Steve nods. “Well, it sure looked like a date.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “It wasn’t. I just got your call while I was having dinner.”

“And he came with you?” she asks.

“It wouldn’t have been safe to drive myself,” Steve says. He sighs. “Tell me about this person you met,” he says, changing the subject.

Peggy straightens up, _lightens_ up a little, looking a little younger, less burdened. “Her name is Angie,” she says. “She’s an actress.”

“Do I know her from anything?”

Peggy shakes her head. “Probably not. She’s done a few plays Off-Broadway, but she’s been on the west coast for a while doing odd jobs and looking for gigs.”

“So you met her in California?”

“Classified,” Peggy says. “We’ve been dating since just after Christmas,” a very long time for Peggy, “and she’s gotten a spot as a regular on a sitcom that films in New York City.”

“That’s great,” Steve says.

“And I’m moving to New York with her.”

Steve waits for the moment of gut-wrenching agony. He waits for the seriousness of Peggy moving in with her girlfriend to sink in, and the knowledge that she’s finally leaving him behind, but it doesn’t come. There’s no horror or hurt.

He just feels happy for her.

“That’s great,” he says with a real, genuine smile. “You must like her a lot.”

“I love her,” she says with something almost like a giggle. “It’s so strange! Honestly, it is. I spent so long thinking, well…” She clears her throat, looks up at Steve and gives him a little shrug. “I spent so long thinking about you, and how I could fix myself to try to make things work. I was so depressed after last Christmas, when we…” She doesn’t need to say what happened between them; Steve’s thought about it, too. “And then how we parted. I kept thinking about what I did wrong, why I can’t make myself be the right person for you. Turns out, maybe, that I’m just _not_ the right person for you, and you’re not the right person for me.”

“Maybe so,” Steve says.

“She’s fantastic,” Peggy says. “And you’ll like her when you meet her, I just know that.”

“New York is a lot closer than Los Angeles,” he says.

She smiles. “Do you think that’s a good thing?” she asks.

Steve nods. “You’re welcome here any time, you know that,” he says.

“I’ll leave the bike at home next time.” She cringes. “That is assuming there’s anything that can be done to save it.”

“Let’s change the subject,” Steve says. “I’m going to be angry at you about this for a while.”

“That’s fine,” she says. “I deserve that.”

“You deserve to be happy,” Steve says with a smile. “I’m glad that you found someone.”

“Thank you, Steve. That means more to me than you know.”

He smiles and nods, looks down at his feet for a moment. He’s wearing casual clothes, ones that he changed into after work. He feels like a schmuck. 

“You deserve to be happy, too,” she says.

“Thanks,” he says. “Let’s get back inside.”

“You go,” Peggy says. “I need to call Angie.”

“Alright,” he says, heading back in alone.

— —

It’s another forty-five minutes before Steve can see Sharon, who already has a cast on her arm by the time he walks in. “Oh honey,” he says when he sees her, taking a seat next to her on her hospital chair.

“It doesn’t hurt that bad,” she says, leaning into his side. She looks up at him. “Sorry,” she says.

“You don’t need to apologize to me.” He wraps an arm around her shoulders and squeezes, careful not to jostle the cast.

“I shouldn’t have said I wanted to go see the movie.” She looks up at him. “It wasn’t even a good movie.”

“It was about soccer, sweetheart, what did you expect?” Steve asks in a sweet voice. 

She giggles and looks down at her cast. “Are you mad at mom?” she asks.

Steve nods. “Of course I am, but we’ve talked it through and I’ll get over it eventually.”

“And she told you about Angie?” she asks.

“Mhmm,” Steve hums.

“And Christmas?”

Steve furrows his brow. “What about Christmas?” he asks, suddenly worried. If Peggy thinks that she and Angie can keep Sharon away from him over the holidays, they’ve got the argument of their lives coming for them.

“She and Angie are going on vacation, so it’s just the two of us this year.”

Steve perks up. “No seeing your grandparents?” he asks.

Sharon nudges his side with her good arm. “Don’t look _too_ excited,” she says.

“You’re free to like your grandparents on either side. I’m free to dislike whomever I chose.” He leans in and kisses the top of her head. “Maybe we’ll plan something fun, too.”

“Please don’t make me go on a cruise,” she says.

“Wouldn’t dare,” Steve says, laughing. “I know you’re far too cool to be caught dead with your dad on a cruise.”

She rolls her eyes. “It’s not that, dad. I just don’t know that I want to eat dinner with strangers every night and play shuffleboard. You’re too competitive and it wouldn’t be fun.” She pauses, looks around. “Did you come here by yourself?” she asks.

“Bucky drove me,” he says.

“Bucky?” she asks. “Why?”

“I was at the diner when your mom called. I was a little freaked out, so he offered me a ride.”

“Is he still here?” she asks.

He nods. “He’s still in the waiting room. He wanted to make sure we had some time just the two of us to chat. Want me to go get him?” he asks.

She shakes her head. “No, I just want a few more minutes of us alone.”

“Alright,” Steve says as she snuggles in closer.

They sit quietly for another minute, then she says, “I’m glad Bucky was there.”

“Why’s that?” Steve asks.

He can feel her shrug. “It’s good to have family around when something goes bad.”

“Family?”

“Yeah, Bucky’s family. So’s Sam and Natasha, of course, and everyone else in town, but Bucky’s special. He’s always there for us.”

“He is,” Steve agrees.

“And I think that talking to him is good for you.”

Steve furrows his brow. “What do you mean by that?” he asks.

“I mean,” she says, pulling away from Steve and scooting back on the seat a little so that she can look him in the eye. “You’re always _going_. You’re working, or doing things for the town, or taking care of me. You never take a break, and you’re always thinking about what you have to do next.”

“I’m--”

“ _I’m_ not done talking,” Sharon says. He smiles, and lets her keep going. “Sometimes I 

feel like the only time you ever get to take a break is when we go to Bucky’s. You go there, chat with him, get out of your own head a bit. I think it’s important for him, too. He doesn’t get out too much, and you sort of force him out of his shell. He smiles a lot more when you’re around, from what I hear.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Steve says, ducking his head.

“I think it’s true,” she says. “And I know that if something goes wrong, Bucky will be there. He’s not the only one -- there’s Sam, and mom, too -- but I’d go to him first if you weren’t around, or if you were in trouble. And, he can drive stick, so he’s really useful for a lot of things.”

Steve laughs. “I’m sure he’d be glad to hear that.”

“Maybe if it came from you,” she says.

“I feel like you’re trying to tell me something here,” Steve says.

She nods. “I know you’ve always wanted things to work out with mom, and there was a long time that I wanted that, too.” Steve’s face falls. “But I don’t anymore. You don’t need to worry about that or me.”

“I’m always going to worry about your happiness,” Steve says.

“That’s your job, so you can keep doing that, but maybe on this one issue you can ease up on yourself a bit. I wouldn’t mind if you started dating for real. I know you’ve tried now and again, but your heart was never in it. So if there was someone that you wanted to date now, I think you should go for it.”

He smiles. “Thank you, Sharon. And, I’ll think about it. For now, though, let’s just focus on getting you better, okay?”

As if on cue, Sharon’s doctor walks in, clipboard in hand. “You must be dad,” she says.

“I’m Steve,” he says.

“Doctor Cho,” she says, reaching out a hand. They shake. “Seems like Sharon’s arm is fractured in two places. By no means a good thing, but it could have been a lot worse. We see some nasty stuff from motorcycle accidents. The cast will be on for about six weeks, and we’ll see where it goes from there.”

Steve looks to Sharon with concern. “Sharon, do you know what this means?” he asks.

“What?” she asks.

“No clarinet for six weeks,” he says, solemn.

They laugh.

— —

They leave soon after that, Bucky in tow. Peggy declines going home with them — she called a car, which will take her to New York. Apparently, she and Angie are staying there this week as they look for apartments, so Peggy’s going back to her girl. She kissed them both goodbye, and promised to come visit again as soon as she and Angie were settled in the city. Steve tried to convince her to stay the night, but she demurred, especially since there wouldn’t be room for the four of them in Bucky’s pick-up. Sharon goes back in for one big hug, and Peggy almost looks shocked that she would. Steve learned a long time ago that, even when you screw up, your kid will still mostly like you. Seems like Peggy didn’t know that. It makes Steve smile to see her learn.

The drive back home is quiet, Steve letting a sleepy Sharon doze against him, Bucky driving slower and more calmly than he did on the way there. Steve looks over at Bucky. It’s nearly midnight now, and he looks a little rough. There are bags under his eyes, and his hair is slipping from the small bun he keeps it in near the nape of his neck. Steve knows that Bucky is an early riser, and the later he he has to stay up, the less sleep he’ll get before his 4:30 alarm.

Bucky catches him staring. “What’re you looking at?” he asks.

“You,” Steve says, a little too honest.

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Stop it, would ya? It’s distracting. One of us is trying to drive.”

“You’re distracting,” Steve says, and while he meant it to sound like banter, a silly, childish comeback, it comes out sounding a little… tender. He blushes, and hopes Bucky can’t tell under the moonlight.

But it seems like Bucky’s unaffected. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Too beautiful for words. Keep it in your pants, Rogers. You daughter is sitting right next to you.”

Steve snorts and Sharon stirs a little. Steve runs a hand down her hair. “Thanks,” he tells Bucky.

“For what?” he asks.

“This. For coming with me, for staying. It means a lot.”

Bucky glances over at him for just a moment, then turns back to the road. “Well, you’re welcome,” he says, no jokes, nothing to gloss over it. “Any time, though I hope it doesn’t happen again soon.”

“Me too,” Steve says, still stroking Sharon’s blonde hair.

— —

When they get home, Steve makes up Sharon’s room, putting just about anything she could possibly want within arm’s reach (including himself).

“This is too much,” Sharon says as Steve pulls the TV in from the living room. “And it’s one in the morning. What am I even gonna watch?”

“Infomercials,” Steve suggests. “You could finally get your dream body using that new miracle diet they’re advertising.”

“Which miracle diet?” Sharon asks.

“No idea, but I’m sure at least one channel will be advertising a miracle diet for the low, low price of $59.99 a month, not including the cost of food.”

She laughs. “Honestly, I just want to sleep.”

“Then go to sleep,” he says, grabbing a pillow and sitting down in a chair next to Sharon’s bed.

She raises an eyebrow. “And what are you doing?”

“Going to sleep,” he says with a toothy grin.

Sharon rolls her eyes. “You don’t need to watch me. I’m not going to roll over and suffocate or something like that.”

“I’m just worried about you,” he says.

“Don’t be,” Sharon says. “You can go to bed, if you want to. I’d say you could go watch TV but you dragged it in here.”

Steve wants to say that he doesn’t want to leave, but then he hesitates. There is something that he sort of wants to do. “Would you mind if I went out to run an errand?” he asks.

“An errand?” Sharon asks, an eyebrow raised. “The pharmacy isn’t open until morning.”

Steve shakes his head. “No, I know that. This is a different errand. It won’t take too long, I don’t think, but I’d have to leave the house.”

Sharon shrugs. “Sure,” she says. “Go run your mysterious errand. I’ll be fine.”

He stands up. “I’ll let you know how it goes,” he says.

Sharon rolls her eyes. “Wait until the sun is up, please.” She snuggles in beneath her blanket and lets out a tired sigh.

He grins. “Okay, it’s a deal.”

— —

The walk to Bucky’s is never long, but he’s never made it with his heart pounding like this. This is stupid, and it’s probably all just in Steve’s head, and it’s the middle of the night after Bucky’s had a long day! He shouldn’t go to Bucky’s.

But he’s still walking towards Bucky’s. And because it’s Stars Hollow and everything is walking distance, it’s only a few minutes until he’s standing in front of the door and gives it a knock.

He waits.

Nothing happens.

He knocks again.

After waiting again, he realizes that, oh yeah, Bucky is probably upstairs, asleep, and can’t hear Steve knocking. Steve sighs, shakes his head. It’s too late to be doing this, and he knows it.

Most people would take this momentary stupidity as a sign that they should leave, and wait until the morning, but Steve doesn’t know how long this resolve will last and knows he has to do it now. So instead of heading out, he picks up a few small stones sitting on the sidewalk. He’s been in Bucky’s apartment a few times, and can pick out which window is closest to Bucky’s bed with ease. He throws the first of the stones then waits.

Nothing.

He throws another to no avail. When he throws the third he yells, “Bucky!”

He waits a moment, and then the window opens, Bucky sticking his head out of it. “What the hell, Steve?” he asks, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. “Do you know what time it is?”

“Yeah, let me up.”

“Go home, Steve.”

“No, I have to talk to you,” Steve says.

A window from the place next door opens up, and an older man sticks his head out. “Be _quiet_ ,” he says. “It’s late and we’re sleeping!”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Go to sleep, Mr. Phillips!” he yells.

“Go to Hell, Bucky Barnes!” Mr. Phillips says, slamming the window shut.

“Bucky, let me up!”

Bucky groans. “ _Fine_ ,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Stay there.”

“Okay,” Steve says, already moving towards the door.

“Do you ever listen?” Bucky asks, exasperated.

Mr. Phillips opens his window again. “You could try listening to _me_ ,” he says.

“Go to _sleep_ , Mr. Phillips,” Bucky says. He looks down at Steve again. “You. Stay. There.”

“Glued to the spot,” Steve promises as Mr. Phillips slams his window shut.

When Bucky disappears back into his apartment, Steve moves to the door.

A few seconds later he sees Bucky walking towards him. Bucky rolls his eyes, but heads towards the door anyway. It takes him a few seconds to unlock and open it. “I thought I told you to stay—“ he starts, but is cut off by Steve’s kiss.

It’s short, just a peck, and then Steve pulls back. “Was that okay?” he asks.

Bucky nods. “Yeah,” he says, “but uh, why?”

“Why what?” Steve asks.

“Why’d you do that?”

“Because I think I love you,” Steve says.

“Think?” Bucky says.

“I do,” Steve says.

Bucky laughs, shaking his head. “Jeez, you’re going all out, aren’t ya?”

“It’s been you this whole time,” Steve says. “I don’t know why I didn’t realize it, but I do now. It’s really been you. I just didn’t see.”

Bucky nods. “Took you long enough to figure it out,” he says, slowly smiling.

And God, even though he’s sleep-rumpled, wearing a dirty white t-shirt and a pair of flannel pants that pool around his feet with five o’clock shadow, he’s the greatest thing Steve’s ever seen.

(Except for the hundred thousand amazing memories he has of Sharon, including the first time he ever held her, but that’s beside the point.)

“Can I kiss you?” Steve asks, heart racing.

“Sure,” Bucky says, stepping in close. He puts a hand on the small of Steve’s back, and another on his hip. Steve can feel Bucky’s breath on his cheek as he draws his face closer to Steve’s.

Steve prepares himself for a kiss that doesn’t come. Instead, Bucky takes a deep breath. “Sorry,” he says.

“What is it?” Steve asks, thinking that he probably should’ve brushed his teeth before coming here.

Bucky swallows. “I just… I’ve wanted this for a long, long time, longer than I should admit. So I’m just trying to figure out if I’m still upstairs sleeping, or if you’re sleep walking, or if this is…” He trails off. “You’re serious, right?”

“I am,” Steve says.

“Because I’m serious, Steve. I’m all in, to the end of the line.”

“Me too,” Steve says.

“Okay,” Bucky says, nodding. “Okay,” he repeats, and then he leans in for a kiss.

— —

“So?” Sharon asks the next morning.

“So what?” Steve says as he sets down the coffee and danishes he got at Bucky’s this morning down on the side table he set up for her next to her bed.

“Your errand?” she asks.

“Oh, it went well,” he says.

“Oh, well, that’s great,” she says. “Are you planning on telling me what it was?”

“You really wanna hear?” he asks.

“Dish,” she says, so Steve sits down on the edge of her bed and does.

— —

Steve didn’t think his life would turn out like this when he was sixteen. He thought he’d go down the path his parents set out for him — Yale, a job at his father’s firm, a wife, and a big house. When Peggy became pregnant, he knew his life would change, but he didn’t expect it to be like this.

But he wishes that his sixteen year-old self could see him today.

“Here,” Steve says, handing Bucky a mug of Sam’s famous hot apple cider, made with T’Challa’s fresh apples.

“Thanks,” Bucky says. Steve sits on the couch next to him. They’re in the lobby of the Shield Inn, which is done up with twinkling tinsel and a large tree decorated with red and gold ornaments and ribbon. Sharon is over at the desk, trying to convince Natasha to help her with an essay she has to write on Tolstoy, even though it’s Christmas Eve and she should really spend it relaxing. Bucky sort of leans into Steve’s side. “You need someone to water the tree?” he asks.

Steve shakes his head. “Did this morning, so it should be fine.”

“Alright,” Bucky says. “You need—“

“Don’t need anything,” Steve says. “Just you,” he adds, then buries his face in Bucky’s shoulder because it’s a little embarrassing to admit it.

Bucky takes Steve’s hand. “Okay,” he says. “Let’s just sit here ‘till dinner.”

They’re quiet for a moment.

“It’s killing you that you aren’t in the kitchen, isn’t it?” Steve asks.

“I don’t know how Sam does his mashed potatoes!” Bucky says, straightening up. “Does he add sour cream? Because if he doesn’t what’s the point of making them at all?”

Steve laughs and pulls Bucky in for a long hug.

So sure, things aren’t the way that Steve anticipated. But he has the best daughter in the world, a job that he loves, and a gold ring in his pocket, which he hopes Bucky will accept tonight.

— —

_Fin_

**Author's Note:**

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